


I've got you

by Groot_the_tree



Series: Whumptober 2020 [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Caring, Caring Mycroft Holmes, Dark John Watson, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Mentioned Mycroft Holmes, Mycroft Being a Good Brother, Sherlock Holmes/Jim Moriarty Fluff, Whumptober 2020, whumptober day 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:55:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26881054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Groot_the_tree/pseuds/Groot_the_tree
Summary: No 7. I’VE GOT YOU Support | Carrying | Enemy to CaretakerMoriarty comes to Sherlock's rescue when he's in a bad relationship.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Jim Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: Whumptober 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948387
Comments: 14
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

Sherlock no longer felt safe. His relationship with John had gone downhill and it didn't take a genius to figure that out. Thankfully he always wore long sleeves, trousers, coat, and scarf when he went out or other people would have taken notice. Especially the people at Scotland Yard. 

He can already hear the remarks Donovan and Anderson would make, saying he was weak for not standing up for himself. Saying he likes the pain, get’s off on it, and wants it, that’s why he hasn’t stopped it. 

Saying he deserves it all. 

He can’t say he wouldn’t agree with him on that last one. John is always telling him that everything that happens is his fault and he has good evidence to back up why it’s his fault, evidence that Sherlock can’t argue with. 

He knows he’s the worst flatmate with his experiments, leaving them around the kitchen, cross-contamination is a worry, John’s right. He knows he’s too blunt and speaks what’s on his mind too often. He does show off every chance he gets and, while John used to like that it gets annoying after a while, Sherlock can understand that. He doesn’t understand relationships that well either and John was clearly getting tired of explaining it to him. 

So he can understand why John does what he does, Sherlock can’t fault him for it. The other is only trying to make him a better, more likable person, after all. There’s nothing wrong with that. 

At least he’s learned to hide the signs. He still gets to show off on cases and that is all, it’s enough. Or he tries to convince himself it is. He’s only allowed to do experiments when it’s for a case and, while he gets bored all the time when they don’t have a case it’s worth it because he has John. 

Now, he’s not even allowed to complain about not having a case. There’s not much to do around the cases they have but he has time to read, research on the internet, he’s allowed to play the violin through the day. He’s even learning to cook better, upon John’s request and, as surprising as it is, he enjoys it. It’s a lot like chemistry. 

And so, he doesn’t have much reason to complain. His life could be a lot worse.

The thing he wasn’t counting on though, was for people to take notice anyway. Not Lestrade or anyone else from the Yard but his brother had asked questions, Sherlock was quick to dismiss them and make sure Mycroft found no evidence. 

The other person who caught on was someone he certainly didn’t expect to notice and, if he did, Sherlock didn’t expect him to care about it. 

There was a knock at the door while John was at work and Sherlock was sitting in his chair with a book, a cup of tea on the table next to him. 

He hesitates for a moment before pushing himself up and going to the door, he had heard the sound of the steps as someone walked up and it said a lot about his mental state that he couldn’t tell who it was. 

The door opens and he blinks a couple of times at the man in front of him. 

“Moriarty?” he asks, as though he doesn’t know who the man is. 

Jim nods, “Yeah, can I come in?” He asks and the look of confusion on Sherlock’s face intensifies. 

Why was his voice so soft and why was he politely asking permission? That doesn’t seem in character for him at all. 

Sherlock nods and steps to the side, the question of what John would say if Moriarty was still here when he comes back doesn’t even enter his mind, too caught up on what he was doing here. 

Jim gives him a small smile and steps into the flat, going to the sofa and sitting down, motioning for Sherlock to do the same and hesitantly he does so.   
“What is this about, Moriarty?” He asks.

“Call me Jim.” He says, ignoring the question for a moment before sighing and addressing it. “Okay, so I’ve noticed some things recently. I’m sure you’ve noticed that I keep an eye on this place, just in case?” Sherlock nods and he continues, “Well, I’ve seen some…concerning things from the good doctor recently.” 

“James, if that is what you’re here for, I don’t want to hear it. He’s right I-“  
“Sherlock, listen, okay? Just hear me out here.” He says, cutting him off, “I just walked up the steps, you didn’t know who was coming. I could tell by the confusion on your face when you opened the door and the hesitation before you even stood up. Your kitchen is clean right now, I’ve never seen that, no experiments, there are no case files in this room. All I want to know is are you happy?” He asks, “And don’t lie to me, I know when you’re lying.”   
“You should leave. John will be back soon.” 

“He’s at work for another three hours, I know his schedule.”

“Why do you care, James?”

“Because you’re interesting. Your Sherlock Holmes, the closest competition I’ve ever had. With you I’m bored.” 

“You want me to be an obstacle, a puzzle.” 

“And don’t you want the same from me?” Jim counters, smirking as he sees Sherlock’s mouth open and no words come out. 

“Okay, I’ll go. Here’s this,” He reaches out a piece of paper. “Come if you ever need help or someone to talk to, anything.” He nods and turns before walking out of the room, leaving Sherlock alone to think over what had just happened. 

What had just happened? He wasn’t sure but he stands, holding the paper in his hand. For a moment, he considers throwing it away without even looking at it but instead he walks through the flat, reading over it as he goes, smiling to himself. The paper goes into the drawer next to his bed. Just in case.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock was sitting on the edge of his bed after John had left for work. It had been a couple of weeks since the last time he had heard from Jim and the thought often entered his mind to call the other, but yet he kept talking himself out of it. He was sure this time would be no different but the card was in his hand as he turns it over and over. 

The night before and that morning had been particularly bad, John had been mad at him since the last case and had finally snapped after Sherlock had spoken out about it. He had known it was a bad idea but it was either that or live with the coldness until it built up more and the results would have been much, much worse later on than it has been this time.

Feel the blood making its way down the side of his face makes him raise his hand, wiping it off onto his shirt sleeve, not even caring that it was going to leave a stain, not caring that it would make John hit him more when he sees it. Right now, he can’t force himself to care about anything.

He doesn’t even notice he’s doing it when it happens, his hand goes into his pocket, pulling his phone out and typing in the number he knows well after so long staring at the card, not that it took him more than seeing it twice to have it memorized. 

Raising his phone up he listens to it ring once, twice, then the sound of someone accepting the call, the Irish voice carrying through. 

“Moriarty.”

“James, It’s Sherlock,” He responds, keeping quiet even though he knows he’s alone and John won’t be back for hours still. Maybe longer if he decides to go out drinking after work. 

“Sherly, I’ve been waiting for you to call,” He responds, voice much lighter than it had been previously, almost as though he’s pleased by the call. “Have you reached a decision then?” 

“Jim, will you fix it for me?” He asks, quietly, voice a light whisper in the silent room. 

“Yes, of course,” Jim answers, “I’ll have someone at your flat in fifteen minutes to pick you up. Pack what you will be needing for a few days while things get sorted. You’ll be staying with me in the meantime. Once it’s settled you may return to Baker Street.” 

“Do you let all of your clients into your house?” Sherlock finds himself asking as he gets off the bed, shaking from the pain and nerves from what is going to happen, making his way around the room, phone on speaker as he gets what he needs. 

“Yes, a large mansion, they all come in as they please, it’s a shock I haven’t been caught yet.” Came the amused and sarcastic reply from the phone. 

“It really is, that’s an idiotic move, James.” Sherlock couldn’t deny enjoying having someone to talk to, finding it a nice change, and not wanting to end the call just yet. 

“Not as idiotic as asking me if I give everyone the special treatment you’re getting.” 

For the first time in weeks, a small smile appears on Sherlock’s face, “I suppose not.” 

“You have five minutes, Sherlock. I have to go now.” And with that, the call ended and Sherlock was alone as he checks over the bag, having packed a few outfits, going to get the toiletries he was going to need, phone safely back in his pocket. 

With everything in his bag, coat, scarf, and shoes on, making sure he has his wallet and keys as well, he makes his way down the stairs, stopping to tell Mrs. Hudson he was going to be away for a couple of days and suggesting that she spend the evening out, not wanting her there alone if John comes back angry that he’s gone. 

Once he has her assurance that she will, he stands up and goes to the door, seeing the black care outside he climbs in the back as the door is opened for him, a short man in a suit, in the back of the car was already waiting for him, a smirk playing on his face. 

Sherlock smiles back at him as he settles into the seat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, maybe this is going to be longer than 2 chapters...oops.  
> tumblr: goot-the-tree-writes.tumblr.com  
> Kudos and comments are nice.


	3. Chapter 3

He had settled well into the house where Moriarty lives, it was large enough that they weren’t both in each other’s face constantly while not being as grand as Sherlock had originally expected as well. 

The house was leaning more on the fancy side, well furnished and clean, yet Sherlock knew the man didn’t do it himself and he never saw anyone else in the house. He wasn’t sure how it worked but didn’t ask. It was just something to think about and occupy his mind on occasion. 

As soon as they had arrived that night, Moriarty had given him a tour of the place, showing him around but not before cleaning him up. He knew he was bleeding some but didn’t realize just how bad it was until he saw the silent concern on the other’s face as he cleaned the wounds and bandaged them. Afterward, he even made sure Sherlock made it to bed. Someone had put him to bed. He still wasn’t sure how to feel about that. 

The amount of thinking he has done recently was concerning, truthfully. It always was but with how things with John had only added to it, plus the way that Moriarty had been acting. 

Speaking of, he found himself in Moriarty’s library more often than not, looking over the books, a large expanse of them first editions and very expensive, many Sherlock had never seen before. He wasn’t surprised that there was a section of books in other languages as well.

This is where the other man had found him a couple of days after he had started staying with him. 

“Holmes,” He begins, walking over, sitting across from him in one of the large, leather armchairs, crossing his legs at the knee. “I’ve been informed by my men that The job will be done later this day. I thought I would check one final time to make sure your mind is set on this.” 

Sherlock looks to him, nodding slowly after a moment's hesitation. “I hate being the one to send someone to their deaths. Or someone who…” He trails off, wondering why he’s talking about this, Moriarty doesn’t care. Then again, a look at him says that he’s listening. 

“Go on.” He says, seeming to know this is something Sherlock needs to get out. 

“I still think of him as being innocent. That I’m killing someone who does not deserve it.” He explains. 

“But he’s not innocent. He’s been hurting you and that is something I cannot have. You are doing nothing but what you should be.” 

“And yet, I can’t convince myself of that.” Sherlock returns, looking to the smaller man.

“Alright, think of it this way. Something happens to you or you two break up, he’s a single man and gets into a relationship with someone else and proceeds to do the same to them. You wouldn’t hesitate to have something done to him then, would you?” 

Sherlock looks to him before sighing and shaking his head, hands going to rub his face and through his hair. 

“Exactly. You’re doing nothing but preventing something from happening before it happens. You have the chance to do something good for someone else and you’re taking it.” And with that, Moriarty stands up and walks to the door, stopping there to look at him. 

“When you’re finished in here, come and find me. You need a moment to collect yourself but then I think I know something that could help you.” And then he was gone, leaving Sherlock alone with his thoughts.

Was Moriarty right? Was he helping someone else? It felt like running. He’s always thought that John wouldn’t hurt anyone but him, that it was just him but maybe he would hurt others? He’s not seen the sign with past partners John has had. 

He knows he needs to do this, really, so he can be safe and the ones close to him. His mind goes to Mrs. Hudson and he thinks he’s made a fair decision. The others could take care of themselves, he’s sure but not her. 

With a deep breath, he stands and walks out of the door, going to find Moriarty, feeling considerably better about his decision than he was earlier, though still a little unsure. 

Moriarty was at the desk in his office when Sherlock finds him. 

“Come in, sit,” he says, motioning to the seat across from his desk, reaching him a file. “You like games and puzzles, see if you can solve this. An inside look before the police gets to it.” 

“So it was you. Boring.” Sherlock states, leaning back and looking at the other. 

“I was behind it but you did enjoy the puzzles, this one will not disappoint. Of course, I’m not giving you all the information, you get to discover some of it. But, truthfully, this was handed to me by a client, a plan. I’m trying to find the holes in it and patch them up. Most likely I won’t use their plan but it’s a fun thing I like to do.” He explains. "Then again, if you help clean it up it might be used." He adds. 

Sherlock sighs and takes the file, starting to look through it. If nothing else it would give him something to think about for a while.


	4. Chapter 4

It was the next day when Moriarty slides into the room Sherlock has been staying in that he knows it’s been done. John Watson was gone. 

The smaller man doesn’t say a word as he walks over and sits on the edge of the bed, next to where Sherlock was sitting, unable to sleep, and looks to him.

“I assume you know why I came in here?” He asks, voice quiet, as though knowing this could be a difficult topic.

Sherlock nods, “Yeah, I think I do. Though I must admit, you being so quiet and having the air of sadness is a little unsettling. If you don’t mind, do drop it.” He responds.

Moriarty shifts, nodding, “Yes, I suppose that would make more sense, you did want him dead after all.” He says, rather harshly, voice returning to a normal volume as he looks to the man. 

“I suppose I need to be packing my stuff then, I expect you want me out of your way as soon as possible and I can be out by the end of the day.” 

“I am in no hurry for you to leave, do take your time.” He responds, “And I currently have someone fixing breakfast anyway. It is early, would you like to join me?” 

Sherlock nods, “Yes, sure. In a moment, if I might.” He says, with a nod to the door signaling Moriarty to leave. There were some things he needed to think through and process first and he needs time to do that alone without someone there to watch him.

The other nods, his hand going to Sherlock’s leg and squeezing before standing up and walking out of the room. 

As soon as he’s long the man sighs and leans back against the bed. So this is it. John Watson is dead. He’s free but at the same time, it’s his fault the other is gone, no matter what he tries to tell himself or what Moriarty tries to tell him. He tries to be sad for John but he can’t be. He’s relieved for himself, he feels as though he needs a shower to get rid of the blood on his hands but he is not sad for the man whose death is his fault. 

Part of him wonders why he thought he would care so much. He’s killed before, it’s common knowledge. They might have been criminals but then he reminds himself that John was as well. The only difference is this was out of self-preservation and the others were to keep other people safe. There are no major differences, other than doing this for himself. 

He sighs, standing up, changing into something more acceptable than his pajamas before making his way out the door and into the kitchen to meet up with Moriarty.  
-

He finds the other man sitting at the head of the table that was too large, given that Moriarty was the only one living there. There were two plates of food on the table, one in front of the man, the other to his right. 

“Holmes, come on, sit.” He states, motioning to the other seat where Sherlock does just that. 

“What is this about, Moriarty?” He asks, looking over as he picks up his fork, “The breakfast.” They had not done this before in the time he had been staying with the other, sitting down and eating breakfast together. It seemed too domestic, especially for them.

“A celebration,” Came the reply, “I thought it would be nice, and as you seem to be wanting to move out so quickly, I thought it was best to get it done now while there is time still. 

“Okay,” Sherlock responds, not sure what to make of the answer he got, it seemed very odd for the other. “To celebrate.” He repeats. 

“Exactly, your pet is dead. I feel we are on more equal footing now. One against one. Do you know how much more interesting this could make things?” Jim asks, reaching his hand over and laying it on top of Sherlocks. “Because things could be very, very interesting.” His voice drops lower the more he spoke until it was more of a low growl.

Sherlock swallows hard, unsure what to make of the words. “I’m sure it could be. Things with you often are, Moriarty.” He responds his eyes on the hand on his before looking up at him. 

“Oh, I do try to keep them that way.” His voice is much lighter as he sits up properly, still looking at the other. “I don’t see you protesting.”

“Did you expect me to?” Sherlock asks, staring back.

“I had hoped you wouldn’t,” Moriarty replies, simply, smirking at Sherlock. 

John might be dead and that chapter might have come to an end but, it would seem, the story was far from over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr: groot-the-tree-writes.tumblr.com  
> Kudos and comments are nice.

**Author's Note:**

> So this one probably isn't finished but I decided this would be a good place to stop for now.  
> Kudos and comments are nice.


End file.
